


i live to let you shine

by gingerbread man (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Davesprite is one tragic motherfucker, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/gingerbread%20man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>but you can skyrocket away from me</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and never come back if you find another galaxy</em>
  <br/>
  <em>far from here with more room to fly</em>
  <br/>
  <em>just leave me your stardust to remember you by.</em>
</p><p>Your John died a long, long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i live to let you shine

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics in description are from, ironically enough, "Boats And Birds" by Gregory And The Hawk.

This John is just like yours - blue eyes and black hair and tan skin, fumbly movements and things he tries to say that die in his throat before he can.

But they are not, by any means, the same.

Your John never made it to god tier. You think he would have loved the windy powers; never would have let his feet touch the ground again, you’re sure. Your John was only thirteen. Your John was still completely un-ironically obsessed with the movie Con Air, and he still talked about it and slipped it into conversations whenever he could. Your John called you Dave because that’s who you were to him. To this John, you are Davesprite, an orange feathery knockoff of the Dave he’s waiting to see.

Your John died a long, long time ago.

_and you found him_

His body was covered in ash. His hair was covered in soot, much like his suit, which was torn to all hell. His glasses were cracked in half, but he was still smiling, because he was John Egbert and he wouldn’t be caught without a smile on his face.

_even if he was dead_

You’d held his body in your arms and cried into his chest, wishing and hoping and praying even though you weren’t a religious person that this was some crude joke. Something to get you back for all those times you were an asshole. But it wasn’t. His chest did not rise and fall and he had no pulse, and his eyes were shut tight like a small child hiding from something terrifying.

And that was what he was, really.

A child.

You hadn’t even heard his voice - the two of you hadn’t talked, hadn’t met up, hadn’t hugged. He went and died before you even got to meet him.

_what a fucking prick am i right_

His lips were cold when you pressed yours to them.

And it wasn’t because you were trying to bring him back - you knew it wasn’t going to work. Rose had told you too much about the logistics of the “kissing corpses” thing and how it worked, and you knew, you knew he wouldn’t come back. No, you kissed him because you had wanted to for years, and it wasn’t fair that you never got to, it wasn’t fair it wasn’t fair

_it wasnt fair!_

When you had kissed this John to see how it would have felt like if you had gotten to kiss yours while he was alive, you were only pushed away. “Sorry Davesprite, but I’m not interested in you like that,” he had said with a nervous giggle, and you had hated him in that moment, you had hated him more than you hated the fact that you were only a cheap knockoff of the real Dave Strider, the one Jade and him were waiting to see.

“Because I’m not your Dave.”

He had stopped in his tracks.

“Well, you…”

_hurry the fuck up im waiting_

“You aren’t my Dave. You’re Davesprite, so that makes you different, right?”

There were tears in your eyes. You could feel them.

“Yeah, and you aren’t my fucking John, either. And I hate you.”

That was the first time you’d ever seen him look truly hurt, but hey, the truth hurts. He had merely shaken his head at you and stomped away. He didn’t seem to be upset - no, it had seemed he was angry about the comment. Angry about you hating him.

_but you didnt really_

He ignored you for the rest of those three years. Jade would talk to you sometimes, comb her hands through your feathers and laugh when you peeped. Your Jade wasn’t much different from this one, but your John was. Your John was so much different. And you wish he wasn’t, you wish they were the same so you could at least pretend, pretend that

_that_

_it was ok_

_he didnt love you back_

When you’d finally gotten to meet the others, no one said anything to you. It wasn’t surprising, really. Always the cheap knockoff, nothing but an orange feathery asshole trying to pretend he was the actual Dave Strider. You’d stayed and watched until Alpha Dave had kissed John, and then you flew away to god knows where, crying like you had PMS.

You lay back and cringe when your wing hits solid ground, reflectively curling into yourself, which did nothing more than make the sword through your midsection hurt more. You wish this John would love you back, but it wasn’t like your John did, either.

You close your eyes and dream of a better place, somewhere far away, where you can curl up with your John and pretend, even if for a moment, that

_that_

_ he loves you too _


End file.
